


Encircled

by Rynne



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-30
Updated: 2011-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynne/pseuds/Rynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock has a ring kink, which doesn't exactly help his control when Jim decides to buy a wedding ring.  And wear it.  In public.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encircled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/15838.html?thread=15015390#t15015390) at the **st_xi_kink_meme**. This is the first fic I've written in almost a year, the first sex I've written in over two, and the first slash sex I've written in _five years_. It's also the most explicit sex I've ever written, I think. I blame the kink meme for making me want to write, but I guess that's the point of the thing, so. I originally posted this anonymously in parts, but when I'd posted all of it and no one told me it was the anti-hot or anything, I figured it was all right to claim it. XD So...have some K/S porn.

Spock knows that human hands do not have the sensitivity of Vulcan hands. He knows that many enjoy adorning their hands and wrists with jewelry, and has always had to consciously control the rush of blood to his cheeks whenever he saw humans wearing rings and bracelets in public.

He even knows that for centuries, humans bonded couples have been wearing rings to indicate their commitment to their partners.

None of this knowledge prepares Spock for the sight of one of those simple gold rings on Jim's finger.

Instinctively he controls his blush, but he cannot stop his mouth from going dry in an immediate rush of _possessiveness_ and _want_. Fortunately, Jim speaks before Spock has to attempt vocalization with a raspy voice.

"Do you like it?" Jim asks, and doesn't even wait for Spock to answer before he rushes on. He waves his hand slightly as he speaks, and Spock is mesmerized by the play of light and shadow and golden glimmer. "I don't expect you to get one -- it's not your tradition and I guess it'd chafe your hands if you did -- but I sort of like the idea, you know? Shove it in the face of everyone who thought I couldn't possibly stick to just one person."

By this time Spock is able to reply in an approximation of his normal voice. "I find it very...appealing," he manages. Which is an understatement of the highest proportions. He finds it elegant and tasteful, even beautiful in the way it shines slightly in the light of the room.

He also finds it far more erotic than he had originally anticipated, from his almost illicit glimpses of earlier hands encircled by strips of metal. Of course, this is Jim, who somehow always manages to be more erotic than Spock originally anticipated.

Jim beams at him, and moves forward to brush a kiss against Spock's lips, then his fingers against Spock's. The ring glides across Spock's knuckles, and he cannot suppress a shiver.

Jim catches it, grins, and does it again, slower. Though Spock is better prepared this time, he still cannot control his physical reaction as well as he should. Jim's eyes dance as he takes a step back and tilts his head.

"Ready for breakfast, Mr. Spock?" he asks. "Not sure I can face another boring day of star charting without something to fortify me."

"Stellar cartography--" Spock begins, but Jim interrupts to say, "Is important and fascinating, yeah, yeah, I know. Maybe for you and your science minions, but sitting on my ass and looking at blank space is boring as fuck."

"They are not my minions," Spock says for the sixty-first time. "Furthermore, space is indeed not blank--"

Jim chuckles and claps him on the shoulder before heading out of their quarters. "Breakfast, Spock," he says firmly.

Spock is content to follow him to the officers' mess, particularly when he notices that Jim's hips have the slightest sway, and he frequently raises his left hand high enough to display the ring on his finger.

Once they've gotten their food, Spock sits across from Jim, but though he tries to keep his eyes focused on Jim's face, he cannot help several glances down at his left hand, which lies spread on the table as Jim uses his right to eat.

They are in public. Spock cannot react as he is beginning to want to, now that the initial shock of Jim's ring has worn off. They are in public, and it would be indecent to grasp Jim's hand and pull that finger into his mouth, manipulate the ring with his tongue, suck on Jim's finger as if he were performing fellatio. Jim's hands may not have the sensitivity of Spock's own, but he still enjoys what he insists on calling a hand-job, with a smirk.

They are in public, and Jim is wearing a ring openly proclaiming him Spock's.

Spock is shaken out of his reverie when Nyota sits beside him. She smiles a greeting at him before her gaze, too, focuses on Jim's left hand.

"So you actually went through with it," she says. Spock finds it difficult to place her tone, but he believes it to be somewhere between amusement and respect. Not an infrequent combination of feelings for Nyota about James Kirk, Spock has noted, though more usually those feelings are also accompanied by exasperation.

"Said I would," Jim replies. He takes a sip of his coffee and smiles into the cup before looking back at Nyota. "Anyway, it's just a ring. What's the big deal?"

Nyota glances at Spock, the amusement in her gaze winning out over any other emotion. "I think I'll let you find that out for yourself," she says.

Jim grins, and raises his coffee cup again, this time planting his elbows on the table so the cup remains at chin height. He wraps both hands around it, with his left on the outside. "I have noticed that Spock finds it...appealing," he says. He takes another sip and closes his eyes, his face wearing an expression of almost post-coital contentment.

"Jim," Spock chides, as much to get that expression off Jim's face -- in public -- as because of what Jim said.

Jim smirks at him, which at least means that Jim is no longer indecently appreciating his coffee. Nyota hides a smile behind her hand.

Nyota knows enough of Vulcan culture to guess what rings mean to his people. Jim is learning, and has grown quite competent at the Vulcan language, but despite Jim's flirtations, Spock does not believe he truly understands what he is doing by wearing that ring.

Once they finish breakfast, they leave together for alpha shift. Jim keeps up a lively conversation with Nyota about the strange subspace signals they encountered the day before, and Spock walks on his left side and watches the movement of Jim's hands as he gesticulates with more than his typical exuberance.

Jim glances out of the corner of his eye and catches Spock watching his hands. He winks, and Spock contemplates, in something that is not despair because of course he is not capable of that emotion, having to stay at his station on the bridge while Jim sits in the captain's chair and wears that ring.

\--

Under normal circumstances, Spock finds the Enterprise's star charting duties interesting. He enjoys seeing new stars and new planets, even if, as with the system they are currently charting, there are no Class Ms. He enjoys discovering all the strange wonders the universe can throw at them, from pulsars with strange electro-magnetic waves to nebulae with shifting colors of surpassing beauty, and more. This career path, these discoveries, they fulfill him as he does not believe the Vulcan Science Academy could have.

Today he cannot concentrate on it. He has been on the bridge for three hours and already he has had to stop himself from turning to look at Jim twelve times. This is an unacceptable number, when during the course of a full shift he usually does not need to control the urge more than half as often.

But during a more usual shift, Jim is not sitting in the captain's chair, the command seat of the Enterprise, his right as the leader of the entire starship...wearing a piece of jewelry that explicitly identifies him as belonging to Spock.

For some reason, Spock cannot get past this. Jim has never hesitated, in the course of intimate activities, to declare himself Spock's. Indeed, one of the many things that Jim takes delight in babbling during intercourse is variations on the theme of "I'm yours, Spock." And Spock has always enjoyed hearing such words from Jim, but even with that pattern of enjoyment, Spock had not anticipated the depth of his instinctual response to Jim proclaiming such things in public, outside the privacy of their quarters.

It is one thing for Jim to express as sense of belonging to Spock himself, Spock finds. It is another thing entirely for Jim to show it off to the galaxy, to wear a ring that identifies him as Spock's mate, his personal property, his -- his. And to have Jim so casually and joyfully display his status...

Spock's cock throbs, and he takes a breath and exerts control over it once again, glad that he is sitting down and the console covers his lap.

Jim does not even realize what he is doing, Spock tells himself. He has simply observed Spock's fascination with the ring and capitalized on that observation. He does not understand the primal forces he plays with.

Spock very much wants to show him.

"Mr. Spock!" Jim says, and when he turns to look at him, from the expression on his face Spock can tell that this is not the first time Jim has said his name.

"Yes, Captain?" He controls the rush of blood to his face admirably, he thinks. At least, Jim's amusement does not deepen, as he is sure it would had he seen Spock actually blush on the bridge.

"Lieutenant Uhura has caught that strange subspace signal from yesterday again. Why don't you work with her and see if you can pinpoint it?"

"Of course, sir," Spock replies. It is not relief he feels at being given a task to spend his concentration on. That would be illogical. He merely appreciates the chance to do his duty as science officer.

Jim nods. "All right then," he says, and stands. "I'm going to grab some lunch. You have the bridge."

Spock acknowledges the order even as he stands to look in the scanner. Space is quiet around them, so he does not need to sit in the center seat. He can focus on something other than Jim, and how much Spock finds he needs to pin him down and fuck him.

Thirty-four minutes later, Spock barely acknowledges Jim's return, caught up in attempting to refine the sensors. Subspace signals are Nyota's specialty, not Spock's, but the sensors should be able to pick up something of the cause. Nyota has been attempting to determine the direction of the signal, but so far it has proved elusive.

"Any progress, Mr. Spock?" Jim asks as he settles back into his seat.

"None as of yet, Captain," Spock replies, focused on his console. "The scanners have not yet been able to pick anything up, and the signal thus far actually seems more omnidirectional. Perhaps we are simply too far away to pick up the signal proper."

"And we have no idea which direction to go to strengthen it, hmmm? Well, keep trying. If we don't find it, it won't be the first strange thing in space to remain a mystery."

"Indeed, Captain." Spock primarily enjoys mysteries when they are solved, but as the captain said, they are not always able to understand everything they come across in their travels. Still, there is no logical reason not to make the attempt.

He continues to refine the sensors as Nyota at her station scans her frequencies, until he becomes aware of a strange clicking sound. It is soft, perhaps soft enough that human ears would have to be very close in order to hear it. And it seems to be coming not from Nyota's station, but from the middle of the bridge.

Somehow, Spock knows what he will find even before he turns to look. Jim is tapping his hand against his chair, a tic ordinarily born from nerves or boredom -- except Spock has never observed Jim to have this particular tic. The captain's covert glance at Spock, and the quick grin as Jim catches Spock's eye and then returns his attention to the PADD in his lap, confirms Spock's hypothesis.

Jim is doing it on purpose. It is completely by design that he constantly draws Spock's attention to the ring on his finger, the way it catches the light, the sound it makes when tapped against another hard object, the way it fits him. He wants to drive Spock mad.

Spock cannot say his plan is not working.

But it would be illogical to give in now -- to request a moment of his time and drag him to their quarters instead, or to just haul him out of his chair and into the turbolift. It would be likewise illogical to simply take Jim where he sits, however appealing the thought currently is. And Spock is a Vulcan. He lives his life by logic and is fully capable of resisting his impulses, even given Jim's attempts to incite Spock to passion in public.

As if Spock would ever permit intercourse in public, no matter the thrill the thought seems to give Jim. It would be utterly illogical to allow anyone else to see Jim unclothed, no matter how often he tears or loses his shirt -- much less observe Jim's vivacity when Spock has stimulated him beyond the power of thought.

No. Whatever Jim's intentions, Spock will not give in. He will continue at his station for the remainder of his shift, and only when his professional duties have been completed for the day will he attend to his duties to his bondmate. Jim must learn that he is not the only one experienced in the art of heightening anticipation. Spock will enjoy teaching him.

It lacks only an hour until shift change when Spock feels the looming presence at his back and knows it immediately for Jim.

"May I see, Mr. Spock?" The words are breathed across his ear, a warm exhalation of air that conversely makes him shiver. His ears do not have quite the sensitivity of his hands, but their pointed tips are one of Spock's weak points. And Jim knows it.

"Of course, Captain," is all Spock says, though. It is, after all, not unusual that the captain will want to see something for himself. He steps back from the scanner and returns to his seat, focusing his mind more deliberately on sensor readings. It has been hours since Nyota last caught the signal, but they do not know enough about it to know what that means, if they are merely traveling in the wrong direction or if the signal will come back later or even if --

"You're a stubborn man, Mr. Spock," Jim murmurs, just loud enough for Spock to hear. He turns around and leans back against the console, crossing his arms against his chest, inclining his body to face Spock. The rest of the bridge barely takes notice of them; the captain and his first officer frequently confer like this, though more usually it is a matter pertaining to their duties.

"I do not desire to lose control on the bridge," Spock murmurs back, voice as low as he can make it and still have Jim hear him. "Again."

"Aw, but this way's more fun," Jim replies, even as he uncrosses his arms to rest his hand on top of Spock's for a moment, conveying love and tenderness and something that is not quite apology because Spock does not get the impression that Jim is actually sorry.

"We are professionals, Jim."

But Jim waves that off. "There's only been one interesting thing that happened today, and it disappeared. No one's gonna care, Spock. They didn't think less of you before, and they're not going to think less of you now."

"These are entirely different circumstances, but you continue to be highly provocative."

Jim flashes a grin and his hand returns to Spock's. The ring rubs against Spock's skin, smooth and warm but carrying just enough friction to enflame Spock's sensitive nerves, already on edge from the day he's had. "At least I'm not expecting you to throw me down in public this time," he says, his fingers almost ghosting across Spock's skin, leaving Spock to crave firmer contact. The ring is a light pressure, but still very much felt. "Let anyone else see the way you manhandle me when I get you hot and bothered enough, and the way I _enjoy_ it. The way I beg for more."

"Jim!" Spock hisses. "We are on the bridge!" He has the vague notion that he should remove his hand from under Jim's, but for some reason he is unable to. He has always loved the feeling of Jim's skin touching his own, but with the added stimulus of the ring.... He closes his eyes against the image, but his memory provides it in perfect detail.

Jim leans closer to him again, says directly into his ear, "And soon we'll be off the bridge, and you can show me exactly how much you like my ring." His warm breath once again hits Spock's ear, his tongue briefly flicking against the tip, and that is it.

Spock is done.

"Captain," he almost growls, in a more normal volume, "there is something I need to discuss with you in private."

Jim's eyes light up in triumph, but he manages to only smile and say, "Of course, Mr. Spock. Sulu, you have the conn." And as he follows Spock to the turbolift, he adds, "For the remainder of the shift."

The room fills with small chuckles, and Spock can see Nyota not even hiding her smile this time. He finds, though, that he does not care. He can do nothing about the mysterious subspace signal, but the frustration that Jim so gleefully incited is one desire that will be fulfilled.

\--

Spock waits until the door of their quarters closes behind them before he shoves Jim face-first against the wall, grabbing both of Jim's wrists in one hand and pinning them above his head.

"You have been teasing me all day," Spock says into Jim's ear, then bites at the lobe. "Do you truly know what it is you are doing with that ring?"

Jim pushes his hips back into Spock, tilts his head back to nuzzle his forehead against Spock's cheek and neck. "It's only teasing if I don't intend to give it to you," he gasps. "Otherwise it's extended foreplay. As for the ring, I just noticed that you like it."

Spock moves his lips down Jim's ear to his neck and nibbles at the skin there before stopping to bury his nose and inhale deeply. Jim's scent is strong in the crook of his neck -- there is the faint smell of Starfleet laundry products from his shirt, a trace of soap from his morning shower, but otherwise pure Jim, touched with arousal. Perfect.

Jim's hips continue to push back into Spock's groin, and Spock stills them by wrapping his free arm around them. Jim tries to grind against him, but Spock won't let him.

"Like it," he repeats, once he is finished with Jim's neck for the moment. "Even in your society, that ring signifies commitment to your partner. Have you never considered what it might meant to Vulcans?"

Jim wriggles in his arms for a moment before Spock once again stops him, and a whine escapes his throat. "Come on, Spock, let me touch you," he says.

"The ring, Jim," Spock says. He shifts around Jim's neck to bite at the lobe of his other ear. "Have you thought about it?"

"Not really," he replies, tilting his head back again so Spock can get at his throat. "I mean, Vulcans don't wear rings, right? You don't like having things on your hands."

"Sometimes we do," Spock murmurs into his skin, lips against his pulse. He sucks briefly before moving back. "But it is considered somewhat deviant. Not worn in public."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Spock pulls Jim's arms down and intertwines the fingers of their left hands, leaving the others free. Jim's immediately shifts in Spock's arms and pulls his head down for a kiss.

After a few moments of lips and tongues moving wet and smooth against each other, Spock pulls back enough to say, "Because, my Jim, a ring is my people's rough equivalent to a _collar_. From a Vulcan's point of view, you have been walking around and commanding this ship _flaunting_ that you are mine. Showing off that you are my personal property and you want everyone to be aware of that fact."

Jim's eyes are bright as he cards his fingers through Spock's hair. "Your property, huh?" he says, his voice just beginning to take on the graveled tone of deep arousal. "And what do you intend to do with me?"

"As I believe you would say, that is for me to know and you to find out."

Even senior officers' quarters are not large on the Enterprise. Spock only has to push Jim back a few steps from the wall to deposit him on the bed and cover him with his own body. He kisses Jim once more, tongue probing deeply into Jim's mouth and swiping across his teeth and his palate, then pulling back to tangle with Jim's tongue. Jim's hands are buried deeply in Spock's hair, but Spock shakes them off and pulls back, tugging Jim up just enough to raise the shirt over his head.

Jim takes advantage of the opportunity to grab Spock's shirts as well, and tosses them off to join his on the floor. His hands move to the closure of Spock's pants, and Spock decides to allow it even as he works on Jim's zipper. To remove both pairs of pants requires more wriggling on the bed and each other than the shirts had, and by the time they are both naked, Jim's entire body is flushed with arousal. Spock takes a moment to just look at him, pleased by the picture he makes.

He stretches across Jim to reach the lubricant they keep in the bedside table when he feels a hand slide up his thigh. Even as he grabs the lube, he reaches back to remove Jim's hand, and raises an eyebrow at Jim's pout.

"Not yet," he says, then moves off Jim to his side. "Turn over."

Jim flips onto his stomach with endearing eagerness, but raises himself to his hands and knees before Spock can say another word. Unacceptable. Spock nips one of Jim's cheeks in admonishment, enjoying the squeak and glare that always ensues when Spock does such a thing, then reaches forward to push his shoulders down.

"No, Jim," he says, between nips along Jim's spine. "What I want is for you to hold yourself open for me."

A sharp inhale is Jim's initial answer, followed by Jim shifting his weight to his shoulders and his face to one side as he slowly reaches back to grasp his cheeks and pull them apart. Spock takes a moment to look away from that enchanting sight and observe Jim's face. His hair is beginning to dampen with sweat, his face is mottled with arousal, his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is open to the panting breaths escaping him. He is exquisite.

Spock turns his attention back to the sight directly in front of him, of Jim's hands holding himself open so Spock can see the winking hole between his cheeks. Spock begins just by fingering it lightly, tracing the rim with one finger, occasionally barely dipping inside. Jim's breath gets louder as Spock delicately traces his finger down Jim's perineum, and a hiss escapes him as the finger brushes against his scrotum.

"Come on, Spock," Jim says between gasps as Spock continues to brush across his hole and perineum. "Don't tease me. More."

Spock raises an eyebrow. "I thought it was not teasing if I intend to give you what you want," he reminds Jim. "It is extended foreplay, according to your own definition. And I am not yet ready to give you more."

Jim whines, pressing his face deeper into the pillow. "Please, Spock, please. More," he begs.

Spock always finds it difficult to resist when Jim begs. There is just always something about this strong, commanding man submitting himself to Spock, without reserve or shame, needing Spock and giving himself joyfully. He has no inhibitions about asking for what he needs, and Spock can never resist for long the sincerity of his response.

So he covers Jim's left hand with his own, fingers settling on the ring and back of his hand, even as he moves in closer to trace the rim of Jim's entrance with his tongue. He works the delicate skin there gently, jabbing deeper inside in uneven intervals before pulling back to the rim once again. Then, as he presses his tongue deeper, enjoying the rasping moans from further up the bed, the gasps of Spock's name and babbles of "please" and "more" and "deeper", his fingers rub along Jim's hand, kneading the back of it and spinning the ring over Jim's finger. He moves the ring up and down Jim's finger even as he flattens his tongue against Jim's inner walls and swipes it up and down as well, and Jim emits a high-pitched noise Spock has never heard before. He cannot help but feel smug.

Finally he notices Jim's arms and legs beginning to tremble and pulls back, ignoring Jim's disappointed noise. He coaxes Jim onto his back once again, letting him lie still for a moment while Spock places careful kisses along the creases of his thighs and pelvis. He avoids Jim's cock, knowing that any stimulation could set Jim off at this point, and Spock is not yet done heightening his anticipation.

Once Jim's breath has evened out somewhat, Spock pulls himself up to nuzzle at Jim's neck, then move down again to press kisses against his collarbone. Jim's arms come up around Spock as Spock sucks a bruise into his skin. It will be covered by his shirt, but Spock will know that it is there, and that is more than enough.

"Come on, Spock," Jim eventually says. He brushes his hand down Spock's flank and moves inward until he can take a hold of Spock's erection. Spock lets him stroke it briefly, but though he has been more focused on Jim's enjoyment, his own arousal is advanced enough that he does not wish a precipitous end to their activities. He moves back out of Jim's reach, and the hint of a pout on Jim's face disappears when Spock uncaps the lube and squirts some on his fingers.

Spock keeps his eyes on Jim's face as his fingers unerringly find Jim's entrance, already somewhat loosened from his earlier ministrations. Spock penetrates him quickly with two fingers at once, appreciating the way Jim's mouth drops open and his eyes roll back at the smooth burn and possession of Spock's fingers.

Spock scissors them gently, then curls them and brushes them back and forth against Jim's prostate. Jim lets out a choked-off moan with every brush, then a more high-pitched wailing sound as Spock works a third finger in, stretching him open and continuing to massage his prostate.

When Spock determines that Jim is hovering on the edge of orgasm, lacking only the slightest stimulation to push him over, he removes his hand entirely. Jim is unable to do more than make an unintelligible sound, and Spock soothingly strokes his knee to calm him even as he applies lubricant to his own erection. He wipes excess lubricant off on his own thigh, then pushes Jim's knees further up his body.

Finally he is poised at Jim's entrance, and he holds himself there for a moment, waiting for Jim's eyes to focus on him. The brilliant blue irises are thin rings against dilated pupils, but then Jim gives a long blink and is able to focus on him.

Jim seems to understand what he is waiting for, because he reaches down and grabs Spock's hand, their first two fingers moving against each other. "Come on, Spock," he says. "Take me. I'm yours."

And Spock groans, and pushes in gratefully. He sheathes himself with a quick snap of his hips, knowing that Jim enjoys the suddenness of full penetration, before pulling out and once again moving in, making sure to continuously hit Jim's prostate. He braces one hand on the bed, then grabs Jim's left hand in the other, finally giving in to the brief fantasy of that morning, taking Jim's ring finger in his mouth and sucking on it, prompting another wail from Jim. He swirls the ring around Jim's finger with his tongue as he thrusts and Jim pushes back against him.

Then Spock pops Jim's finger out of his mouth, but keeps hold of his hand, directing it toward Jim's cock. Jim and Spock grasp hold of it together, and it only takes a few strokes before Jim throws his head back, his mouth open but no sound coming out, ejaculate striping his stomach and chest. His body clenches down on Spock during climax, but Spock continues through even the overwhelming pleasure of his penis so tightly encircled by Jim's body.

It is only once Jim has recovered, once he has opened his eyes and raised a hand to brush against Spock's meld points, that Spock is able to let go. Jim's consciousness prods him along their mental link, bringing with it sated contentment and love, and Spock cannot hold out any longer. He surrenders, held close in Jim's body and in his mind, and loses himself in the joy and pleasure of it.

He returns to find himself collapsed on top of Jim, still buried inside him, Jim's fingers stroking the tips of his ears. He does not wish to move, but Jim will soon be growing uncomfortable if he does not, so he kisses Jim's chest and levers himself off his bondmate's body. He has enough coordination not to stumble through retrieving a wet washcloth from the bathroom and his return to the bed, but he is glad that Jim remains silent long enough for Spock to concentrate on cleaning them both up and disposing of the cloth down the laundry chute.

It is only after they are both settled on the bed, Jim flat on his back with Spock's head pillowed against his chest, directly over his heart, that Jim speaks. "Am I going to have that to look forward to every day I wear the ring in public?" he asks. His tone is tired and lazy, but Spock can hear the grin in his voice and feel it in his mind.

"I do not have enough data to make a determination at this time," Spock replies. His eyes are closed, and Jim's slow, rhythmic heartbeat is comforting. He does not currently need sleep, but he has meditated to the sound of Jim's heart before. He would not object to doing so again.

Jim chuckles, a pleasant vibration in his chest. "An experiment is only valid if its results can be replicated with great accuracy, huh?" Spock does not even have to look to know the grin has spread to his face. "Well, I'm all right with that."

Spock does not reply, not wanting to directly encourage Jim. This day had been greatly frustrating, even if Spock will only admit it to himself in a moment of extreme lassitude. But, he thinks, on the whole, he is all right with it as well.


End file.
